Trespasser
by Walter the Wizard
Summary: Slughorn sneaks into Gryffindor Tower for some pleasure, but gets more than he bargained for.


"Something else, Tom?"

Tom Riddle, Head Boy at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had just finished sharing the latest goings-on with his Head of House. The boy had a talent for information gathering that Horace Slughorn found quite useful; his unofficial reports had helped Slughorn gain favor with the Headmaster more than once. Presently, Riddle was about to leave, but there was a hesitant expression on his face that had prompted Slughorn's question.

"Just an amusing bit of information, sir," Riddle replied with an apologetic smile. "Apparently, Avery has recently…visited Gryffindor Tower."

"What do you mean by 'visited'?" Slughorn asked, frowning.

"I mean he got in and out without the Gryffindors being any the wiser, sir."

Slughorn's eyes widened.

"He _snuck_ into Gryffindor Tower? But that's – "

"Very wrong, of course, and potentially a very unpleasant scandal, but as I said, the Gryffindors don't know, and I have already chastised Avery. You can rest assured that it won't happen again."

"I should hope not!" said Slughorn, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "If Dumbledore got wind of it…what was Avery even thinking?"

"It was a dare," said Riddle with a shrug. "Childish, of course, and yet…he went about it like a true Slytherin."

"A true Slytherin would not have accepted the dare in the first place," scoffed Slughorn.

"Perhaps, sir…but then, isn't ambition what defines the House of Slytherin? And infiltrating the common room of another House, surely that is an ambitious undertaking?"

"Perhaps, perhaps…" said Slughorn, twiddling his thumbs as he considered Riddle's words. "So how exactly did he do it?"

"Well, his first order of business was to obtain the password. There is a girl in third year who keeps forgetting the password and has to write it down on a piece of parchment. This is common knowledge in Gryffindor, and therefore some people in other Houses know of it, as well. A Slytherin who shares classes with her created a distraction in Charms, then retrieved said piece of parchment from her bag, memorized the password, and put the parchment back without anyone noticing – all at Avery's direction, of course."

Slughorn gave Riddle a disapproving look, but motioned for him to go on.

"There is a second-year boy in Gryffindor who mostly keeps to himself and would therefore be unlikely to attract much attention. Avery obtained some of his hair and, while the boy was eating lunch in the Great Hall, he assumed his appearance using Polyjuice Potion."

Slughorn shook his head, his walrus moustache fluttering as he puffed.

"From that point on, it was easy. Avery gained access to the Gryffindor common room by using the password, had a quick look around, no one paying him much attention, then pretended to remember that he had urgent business elsewhere and left, taking a piece of tapestry as proof of his success."

"He should be expelled for this!" Slughorn said angrily. Riddle inclined his head.

"He should, of course…I take it you will be letting the Headmaster know, then, sir?"

Slughorn glared at him. Riddle maintained an expectant expression, but there was an amused glimmer in his eye.

"No, I will not," Slughorn said finally, waving his hand in irritation. "Like you said, that would be a huge scandal, and that's not something we need. But I want you to make it clear to him, once again, that what he did was wrong and unworthy of a true Slytherin, and I won't – you hear me? – won't tolerate another escapade like that!"

"Of course, sir."

"Then go," said Slughorn, waving his hand again as he dismissed Riddle. Riddle left, but not before giving Slughorn an insolent half-smile that told him he saw his righteous indignation for what it was – a pretense. Slughorn sighed as he settled back in his chair and reached for his jar of crystallized pineapple. Tom was a brilliant boy and and an irreplaceable assistant…but sometimes he gave him the creeps.

Lord Voldemort was still wearing the cynical half-smile as he exited Slughorn's office. He wasn't sure what had made him tell Slughorn about Avery's foray into Gryffindor Tower. Avery had, in fact, done it with Voldemort's knowledge and approval – Voldemort saw it as a good test for one of his most promising lieutenants, as well as an opportunity to expand his knowledge of Hogwarts. Telling about it to Slughorn, on the other hand, had not served any particular purpose. Voldemort had simply sensed an opportunity to sow chaos, misery and humiliation, and had acted on instinct, like he often did. His instincts on that subject were rarely wrong.

Voldemort eventually forgot about the conversation. Slughorn didn't.

_Thirty-four years later_

"Password?" said the Fat Lady.

"Rigor mortis," replied the much fatter Slughorn. The portrait swung open, and he stared dubiously at the hole in wall that it served to conceal. The hole didn't look like he could fit through it, but that wasn't his chief concern. The possibility of getting caught and the reason why he was trying to get into Gryffindor Tower in the first place troubled him a lot more. As a true Slytherin, Slughorn believed that the pursuit of pleasure required no warrant; still, the pleasure he was pursuing tonight was not exactly normal, and not one he had craved before. It made him wonder whether there was some kind of profound change going on in his mind. Slughorn didn't like change; he wouldn't have stayed at Hogwarts for so long if he had. No, he liked things the way they were: him being Head of Slytherin, eating crystallized pineapple and eyeing the pretty female students. It was familiar, it was fun, and it was safe. At least, it had been until Lily Evans came along. He often said that she was his favorite student, and it was true in more ways than one. Pretty from the start, she had blossomed into a true beauty by sixteen. He would often pleasure himself to thoughts of her before going to sleep, but things took a turn for the worse as her seventh year came along. She was nearing eighteen, but, while her face still had the innocence of youth, her body was already that of a gorgeous adult woman, a combination that gave raging boners to most of Hogwarts's male population, Slughorn included. Whereas before he had merely stolen glances at her during his Potions classes, earning a pleasant semi-erection, now he found it difficult not to stare, and his Slug was painfully hard from the moment she entered the classroom (he thanked heavens for his huge belly; without it, he would have had to strap the Slug down lest it make a noticeable tent in his robes). At night he often spent hours fantasizing about her, not getting enough sleep as a result (and he loved his sleep). As the year progressed, he started getting the increasingly nagging feeling that he had to have _something_ before she graduated. Oh, not Lily herself – although Slughorn had jokingly flirted with her, and she had flirted back in spirit, he harbored no illusions about his chances, and besides, he wouldn't be caught dead with a student – his reputation would be ruined, and that was something he couldn't afford. He had thought about stealing a hair and making Polyjuice Potion, then paying a hooker to transform herself – he knew such things were practiced – but hookers talked. Slughorn didn't need that kind of talk. No, Lily was out of his reach…but something that Tom Riddle had told him many years before had led to an idea. A different kind of pleasure – something less satisfying than the girl herself, but more tangible than his nightly fantasies. He dismissed it at first as too risky, but as his longing for Lily grew, it started to seem more and more attractive, and after giving it a lot of thought, Slughorn came to believe that the risk could be reduced to a minimum. He knew from Tom Riddle that getting into Gryffindor Tower undetected was possible, and the knowledge gave him enough confidence to proceed. The password was relatively easy to obtain; he just had to hide at the entrance to the tower, concealed by a Disillusionment charm, and wait for a student to approach and say it. The tricky part was that his plan required the tower to be deserted, and there were only four days in a school year when that was at all possible, namely the first and last day of school, Halloween and Christmas. The whole student body was normally present at the feasts that marked those occassions, so that was when he would have to act. The welcoming feast had, of course, already come and gone, and he hadn't had any thoughts of sneaking into Gryffindor Tower back then. The end-of-term feast was too far away. Christmas day would be ideal because there would be fewer students around, which would mean less risk…but Slughorn's plan required Lily's presence, and he knew she always went home for the Christmas holidays. This left the Halloween feast.

Slughorn made the final resolution a week before Halloween, and as the big day approached, he grew increasingly nervous, not that it affected his erection at the sight of Lily Evans (evanrection, as he had come to call it). He didn't have to make a lot of effort to appear ill at the feast as he excused himself from the staff table, his feverish state working to his advantage. He would have preferred to call in sick beforehand and skip the feast altogether, but he needed to be there to make sure that every Gryffindor student was in attendance. He had memorized them all in the preceding weeks (the first and last time he would take the trouble to memorize the names and faces of students that weren't good enough for his Slug Club), and he did a mental roll call three times to make sure he didn't forget anyone in his excitement. Everyone was present except for one girl that Slughorn knew was in the hospital wing, so he took his leave, and presently there he stood, the only thing separating him from the Gryffindor common room being his considerable girth.

Slughorn's dislike of change was expecially strong when applied to his own body, and yet his body would have to change in order to fit through the hole. He was better than average at Transfiguration, but it was still risky, especially in a nervous state of mind. Potions, on the other hand, never failed, provided that they were brewed correctly (which they always were when brewed by him). Polyjuice Potion was the most obvious choice, but the change it would produce would be too drastic (and painful) for his liking, and besides, he wanted to be himself when he did what he intended to do. No, he would use a different potion, a much more obscure one. Producing a small vial, Slughorn uncorked it and carefully took a very small draught. No sooner had he put the vial back in his pocket than he felt the change. His vision became blurry, and his body suddenly felt very light. He raised his hand and waved it slowly in front of his face. The flesh rippled and left small streamers in its wake, as though struggling to retain its shape – which it actually was. The potion had rendered Slughorn ethereal – more solid than a ghost, yet a lot less substantial than a normal person. He couldn't pass through walls, but squeezing through a hole was no problem. He glided forward and carefully oozed into the Gryffindor common room like an octopus, the portrait swinging shut behind him. With its warm colors and cozy look, the common room was a stark contrast to Slytherin's tasteful, but oppressive dungeon, and Slughorn briefly regretted the comfort he had missed out on as a student, but he had no time to waste on admiring the interior. There were two doors leading off to the boys' and girls' dormitories, but he didn't know which was which. Approaching the door on the right as fast as he dared (moving too fast in the ethereal state could lead to unpleasant consequences), he willed his hand into a more solid state and pulled on the door handle. The staircase leading to the girls' dormitories, he knew, was enchanted to turn into a slide if a male set foot on it. It wouldn't impede his progress, but he didn't want to leave any trace of his intrusion, so instead of walking, he floated upward, pushing himself off the wall with one hand. The spiral staircase seemed endless, and Slughorn could imagine how exhausting the climb would be in his normal state. Finally, he reached the circular landing at the top of the tower, where seven doors led off to the dormitories. Approaching the door that bore a plaque with the Roman numeral VII, Slughorn pulled on the handle and peered inside.

The room was lit only by moonlight, but even with all his senses dulled, its feminine smell was unmistakeable. Smiling, Slughorn slid inside and lit the bedside lamps with a few flicks of his wand. As he had expected, he saw hairbrushes, mirrors and make-up on the bedside tables, as well as posters depicting unicorns, fairies and young male specimens that were either square-jawed and muscular or effeminate and brooding, depending on the owner's tastes. Slughorn, who was neither, scowled as they flexed their biceps or batted their long eyelashes at him. He had no trouble locating Lily's bed as she had several pencil drawings pinned above her bedside table instead of posters. Drawing was a known hobby of hers, and she had even presented Slughorn with a portrait of himself in her sixth year. It wasn't her drawings he was interested in right now, but he studied them all the same, waiting for the effects of the potion to wear off. He had crafted it to last for four minutes, just long enough to get to the right dormitory even if he guessed wrong the first time. His business had to be done in his normal state, and he already felt himself getting heavier. The drawings in front of him came into focus, the smells got stronger…and the fear returned. The potion dulled not physical sensations, but emotions, as well, and now that he was truly himself again, Slughorn's first impulse was to run. The last time he had done anything seriously unappropriate, he had been around Lily's age, and even then it hadn't been as serious as this. He actually turned and walked hurriedly back toward the door, wondering what madness had taken him…but then he glanced back at Lily's bed and remembered. The Slug stirred in his pants, and after a few moments of internal struggle, he slowly turned back and approached Lily's trunk.

The girl was out of his reach…but now he had an advantage over every other male at Hogwarts that desired her, with the exception of James Potter. They would never get even as far as he was about to get. Quivering with anticipation, Slughorn ran his hand across the lid of the trunk, then pried open the clasps, took a deep breath, and opened it.

As he had expected, the contents of the trunk were neatly organized, and he immediately spotted what he had come for. Reaching inside with a trembling hand, Slughorn pulled out a pair of panties and pressed it against his face. The panties were clean, but they had still known Lily's most intimate body parts, and Slughorn inhaled deeply as he imagined those body parts, the fully erect Slug pressing against his gut. He could already tell that his risk had paid off; this was going to be delicious. He ran his tongue along the seam of the panties and chewed on them, moaning as he did so. Then, no longer able to contain himself, Slughorn tossed them aside, pulled off his robes and his underpants, kicked off his shoes, pulled the rest of Lily's underwear out of the trunk, scattered it on her bed, then dived on top of it. The bed groaned, having been built with a teenager in mind, not a human leviathan, but held.

The dormitory had seen many things in its long existence, figuratively speaking, but if it had possessed true sentience, its proverbial jaw would have dropped at the sight of Slughorn rolling in Lily's underwear like a pig in mud, grunting and snorting in pleasure, his many layers of fat rippling and quivering like jelly. He fucked the bed for a while, imagining it was Lily, his eyes screwed shut as he whispered feverishly, "Yes, fuck that pussy just like that…just like that!" Then he rolled on his back and started rubbing Lily's underwear against his man boobs and fat gut, stuffing it between his fat rolls, and even in his armpits. He wrapped some around the Slug and his balls, soaking it in his ball sweat, imagining how Lily would come to his next class, and he would know she had some of his ball sweat on her boobs and pussy, and the thought made him so horny he almost came right there and then. He would have come for sure if he hadn't been distracted by a blinking red light that had appeared in midair above him.

Slughorn froze, staring at the light first in uncomprehension, then, as his sense returned to him, in horror. He had placed an alarm spell on the entrance to the common room before proceeding, a precaution he had been sure would turn out to be redundant. It appeared he had been wrong. Someone was in Gryffindor Tower with him. Not moving, not even breathing, Slughorn listened. In the total silence the sound of the door closing downstairs, though faint, was unmistakeable.

Few people would have believed that a man so large could move so fast. Rolling off the bed, Slughorn grabbed his wand from the bedside table and waved it frantically in the air. Lily's underwear rose from the bed and flew back into her trunk, which slammed shut. A window opened, and Slughorn's own clothes went out, the window closing again behind them. The bed covers smoothed themselves out, leaving no hint that a walrus in human form had cavorted on them moments before, and the lights were extinguished. As a finishing touch, Slughorn cast a Disillusionment charm on himself, then crept toward the center of the room and waited, his heart beating madly in his chest.

Before long, he heard the sounds of footsteps and laughter that were getting louder by the moment. He could make out voices now, male and female. His brow furrowed. A male voice? What was going on?

His question was answered moments later as the door opened, and none other than Lily Evans entered the dormitory, leading her boyfriend James Potter by the hand. The girl took out her wand and lit the lamp beside her bed; James chuckled as he looked around.

"Nice. The guy on that poster kind of looks like me."

"You look a lot better," said Lily wrapping her arms around him.

"Mmm. Still, I don't see why we couldn't have come to my dormitory. You wouldn't have had to levitate me all the way up."

"I told you," she replied, poking him in the chest. "We've already done it in your bed, now I want to do it in mine."

"All right!" he said, laughing. Hoisting Lily up, he carried her across the room, lowered her on the bed and crawled on top of her.

Slughorn's breath caught in his throat as he realized what he was about to witness. Apparently, James and Lily had decided, like him, to use the Halloween feast to their sexy advantage and have a quickie in Lily's dormitory. This was better than Slughorn could have wished for in his wildest dreams. His Slug rock-hard once again, he crept toward the bed where Lily and James were making out. Before long, their clothes came off, and Slughorn could only stare in open-mouthed, salivating wonder at Lily's perfect breasts, porcelain skin and long toned legs, all of which James Potter gratuitously felt up with his hands and mouth. Because he knew they didn't have much time (or perhaps because he was simply that kind of guy), Potter didn't waste a lot of time on foreplay. Grabbing his average-sized cock, he guided it inside Lily and started thrusting.

Slughorn hadn't known it was even possible to be this horny. All he had felt before paled in comparison. He observed the copulating couple from the side for a little while, his wide-eyed gaze shifting from Lily's open mouth to James's hand on her breast to her legs wrapped around him, then crept around to the back for a better view. Shivering, hardly breathing, his mouth dry, his bulging eyes unblinking, Slughorn leaned forward and brought his face so close to the action that his walrus moustache almost brushed the tender skin of Lily's buttocks. "Yes…yes…yes…" he whispered breathlessly with James's every thrust, hardly aware that he was doing it. Unable to contain himself, he poked out his tongue and lightly probed Lily's anus. She was so preoccupied with other sensations that she didn't notice.

All good things come to an end, and in the case of inexperienced teenagers, sooner rather than later. Hardly four minutes had gone by, but James was already losing control, his body tensing, his pounding becoming more frantic, and with a pathetic cry of "I'm comiiiing!" he spilled his seed inside Lily, unaware that Slughorn was so close he could see his penis pulsing as it disgorged the contents of his balls. Finally, it was over. James slumped with a blissful sigh, and Slughorn straightened up. Unfortunately, his hand brushed the Slug as he did so, and in its present state, that was all the Slug needed.

Throwing back his head, Slughorn made a choking sound as his own climax hit. Lily cried out in fright, and James twisted his head around just in time to get a healthy dose of Slughorn's man juice right in his open mouth. Cursing and sputtering, James tried to roll aside, but in her fright Lily's vagina had clamped tight on his still erect penis, effectively trapping him on top of her and forcing him to endure Slughorn's semen barrage. Slughorn's bliss was absolute, the circumstances and the possible consequences irrelevant as the Slug spewed forth millions of his potential children, not caring in the slightest about James's cries of protest and disgust.

Finally, the bombardment ended, and Slughorn became aware on the intellectual, if not the emotional level, that it was time to disappear. Blowing a cloud of smoke out of his wand, which was the best he could think of at the moment, he turned and ran out of the dormitory. He remembered too late about the enchantment on the staircase as it turned into a slide underneath his feet, and he rolled down like a boulder in some booby-trapped ancient temple, its purpose to crush any trespassers. Incredibly, he managed to roll into a standing position at the foot of the slide and ran out the door without slowing down. The panic had kicked in by then, and he sprinted, wild-eyed, toward the portrait hole. Unsurprisingly, he only remembered that the hole was too small for him as he realized, having squeezed halfway through, that he was stuck. Panic gave way to icy, depthless terror as Slughorn remembered that he had only been able to get in with the aid of the potion that was presently lying somewhere at the foot of Gryffindor Tower along with his clothes, thanks to his "quick thinking". Transfiguring himself was out of the question – in his present emotional state it would surely result in permanent disfigurement. His only choice was to summon the Potion and pray to whatever gods there were that it would reach him on time.

"Accio Wraith Potion!" Slughorn gasped, waving his wand (at least, he'd had enough presence of mind to not let go of it). Now he had to wait, and it was going to be a torture. How long would it take James Potter to extricate himself from Lily's vagina? Probably not very long. Would Potter and Evans get dressed before going after him? They probably would, but that only bought him a few more seconds. What would they do when they came down, lifted the Disillusionment charm and beheld his gigantic bare ass hanging out of the portrait hole? The question was too terrifying to contemplate.

"Come on, come on, come on," Slughorn chanted under his breath, focusing on the thought of the vial speeding toward him through the castle. Surely there was an entry point somewhere nearby? A hole, a missing pane of glass big enough for the vial to fly through? "Come on, come on, come on!"

Slughorn cringed as he heard Potter shouting something upstairs, but his spirits lifted as he spotted movement ahead. The vial was already in the corridor and flying toward him at full speed. He urged it on, snatching it out of the air as soon as it was within his reach, pulling out the cork and hastily gulping down its contents. He heard movement behind him, but he was already slipping out of the hole. No sooner had the portrait closed behind him than a spell hit it from the other side. Potter and Evans were hot on his heels, but the potion had restored a modicum of calm to Slughorn, and he cast several spells as he glided away as fast as he dared. Another cloud of smoke, a glass wall that could take several strong offensive spells before breaking, and an illusion of the world turning upside down bought him enough time to successfully escape. By the time Potter and Evans emerged from the corridor, coughing and disoriented, they no longer had any hope of catching Slughorn, who reached his quarters before very long.

His first order of business was to summon his clothes, even though they were in very little danger of being discovered until the next day. Once he had them back in his possession, Slughorn poured himself a strong drink and collapsed into an armchair. He was badly shaken, and worst of all, he feared it wasn't over yet. Closing his eyes, he took a draught from his glass and tried to think.

Had Potter and Evans recognized him? The Disillusionment charm had rendered him almost perfectly invisible, so he was safe in that regard. He had cried out during his orgasm, but he had sounded more like a cat being strangled than himself, so they probably hadn't recognized his voice, either. Had he left any evidence? His things were safely back in his possession, and James had surely scoured himself of his semen. The spells he had used? Slughorn massaged his forehead as he thought deeply. The glass wall and the illusion…he shouldn't have used such advanced magic. Still, it was conceivable for a very talented student to know such spells. Tom Riddle had demonstrated even more impressive things by the end of his fifth year, though, of course, he was one of a kind. Slughorn scowled as he thought about Tom Riddle. Without his story about Avery…but what was done, was done. So, the spells didn't necessarily point to him. Most importantly, would they tell McGonagall? That would entail explaining the circumstances, which definitely wasn't something they would want to do. Still, they _would_ want to get back at the mysterious "guest", especially Potter. How far would he go to get his revenge? The question plagued Slughorn until morning, when he was finally overcome by fatigue and went to bed to catch a couple of hours of sleep.

He dreamed of Lily Evans and awoke with a raging boner, but as he reached for the Slug, he remembered last night's events, and the mood died. He realized with dread that he was going to have to face Evans and Potter at breakfast, and then in his classes. If he gave them even the slightest grounds for suspicion…no, that could not be allowed to happen. Slughorn spent the next fifteen minutes giving himself a healthy, fresh appearance with the aid of various potions so that no one would suspect he'd had a sleepless night. He also took a calming draught to take the edge off his anxiety, then headed for the Great Hall.

He arrived early, the House tables still half-empty. Dumbledore was already at the staff table, and he inquired if Slughorn was feeling better as the latter joined him, to which Slughorn replied that he was feeling much better and was ready to work again. Dumbledore was satisfied, and Slughorn started on his breakfast, forcing himself to eat as he awaited the inevitable, which soon happened. James Potter showed up first, accompanied by his usual coterie of Black, Lupin and Pettigrew, and Evans arrived soon after. Both appeared subdued, but neither seemed to pay Slughorn more attention than usual.

"They don't know," Slughorn thought, relieved. "They don't suspect me!"

His spirits rising, he resumed eating with genuine appetite, and as he glanced at Lily and remembered probing her anus with his tongue, a pleasant shudder ran through him. In the end, his endeavour had paid off.

"So, Minerva," Dumbledore said with a smile, addressing Professor McGonagall, "will you be putting more stringent security measures in place in the light of last night's events?"

Slughorn, who had just taken a draught of pumpkin juice, choked and spat it out. Dumbledore shot an amused glance in his direction.

"What events?" McGonagall asked, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"A little bird told me," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling, "that someone was in Gryffindor Tower last night who shouldn't have been, and they did some things they shouldn't have done."

Slughorn felt like he was going to be sick.

"What? Who?" asked McGonagall.

"Someone," Dumbledore said with an innocent smile. "Perhaps it doesn't matter who. Perhaps it was no one. But this is a school, yes? And a school is a place for learning lessons."

"Is there a point to all this, Dumbledore?" McGonagall asked in irritation.

"The point, if there is one at all," said Dumbledore, glancing at Slughorn again, "is that an important lesson will have been learned. A lesson about boundaries, and personal responsibility, and little birds. And perhaps," – he looked at the Gryffindor table, – "about certain types of relations that can wait."

"For Merlin's sake, Dumbledore!" said McGonagall in exasperation. "Can you not speak in riddles for once?"

"Speak in riddles? I wouldn't think of it, my dear Minerva. I'm sure that Horace, for one, does not think I'm speaking in riddles. Do you, Horace?"

"No," croaked Slughorn as Dumbledore fixed him with his amused, all-knowing gaze. "I suppose not."

"Well, there you are. Minerva, why aren't you touching the sausages? They are particularly good today."

"Dumbledore," said McGonagall, clearly at the edges of her patience, "I thought we were talking about some kind of incident that supposedly took place in Gryffindor Tower last night?"

"Were we?" asked Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows in a grotesque expression of surprise. "I don't remember. Do you, Horace?" He started winking at Slughorn, who said, "No, Headmaster".

"Bah!" said McGonagall, turning away. "Sometimes you are truly impossible, Dumbledore."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Dumbledore, waving his arms theatrically as he turned to Slughorn, a look of exaggerated resentment on his face. "Hear that, Horace? Impossible! This is what I get for busting my hump to make sure this school stays a half-decent establishment. This is the thanks I get! I wish I had followed your example and turned the job down. You knew better, my old friend."

The mortified Slughorn forced a laugh, and that was the end of it. Dumbledore never raised the subject again, in spite of Slughorn's fears, and Slughorn eventually came to admire the Headmaster for the masterful way he had handled the situation. He had shown Slughorn that he was in control and would not tolerate further misbehavior, but he hadn't blown the matter out of proportion and sanctioned him openly, irreparably damaging the school's and Slughorn's own reputation, which was what that little beast Tom Riddle would have undoubtedly wanted. Dumbledore was a truly wise leader who stood as a bulwark against the forces of darkness, which often worked in very subtle and insidious ways. Even though Slughorn had experienced great fear and humiliation, the Dark Lord would have been, at most, amused if he had known about it. Thanks to Dumbledore, the damage had been contained, and the man who would one day play a crucial part in Voldemort's downfall had remained a respected member of the wizarding community. Perhaps even more importantly, what Slughorn would ultimately remember about the incident would be the good things – wallowing in Lily's underwear, watching her have sex, having the best orgasm of his life – and the bad things, the fear and the shame, would become distant memories that could no longer hurt him. This, more than anything else, proved to Slughorn the ultimate impotence of evil and granted him a profound inner peace in his last years.


End file.
